I Saw You Leaving
by the swan queen
Summary: The women in Shane Walsh's life have never been easy to figure out. Shane/OC, will contain sexual content, violence, adult language, spoilers through end of season two.
1. Eight Years Before, Part One

**EIGHT YEARS BEFORE, PART ONE**

They say that some people are born lucky, blessed even in their fortunes to be great. And they say that others are born unlucky; cursed to toil through life unnoticed, unimportant, and unloved.

For the majority of my early life on earth, I believed myself to be made of the latter fate. But the summer after I turned 21 changed everything, shifted my life so immensely that I was left certain of only two things. The first was that I was never going to be without love again; the second was that I had in fact been born lucky, it had just taken time for the prosper to reveal itself.

Because that summer was the one during which I met him.

I was waitressing back then, trying to save enough money to leave for Atlanta. The restaurant in which I worked was a local family-operated diner; the owner, Alfred, had been running the joint since his father died two decades previous to my time there. He was a typical old Southern gentleman, a kind but sometimes inappropriate figure. Due to his Christian upbringing, he always had things to say about certain patrons; and he once tried to ask me on a date because I reminded him of his "most darling sweetheart, Lord rest her soul." Business was good, if not a bit drab at times, and the pay was beyond what it should've been for such employment. And we catered to an elite crowd: The same people who ordered the same meal at the same booth every day. I guess you could say that everything at the Indigo Rose Diner was as plain as plain could ever hope to be.

Or at least until he started showing up. He was always there on my dinner shift, and like many others, he ordered the same thing each day – a Salisbury steak with no salad, a black coffee, and a slice of the day's pie for dessert. It was always simple, easy, predictable, and annoying to have him in my serving section (where he somehow always ended up sitting.) He was a nice man, handsome as hell in his police uniform, but it was clear he knew his importance. He always flirted with me, saying how nice my uniform looked or asking if I'd changed my haircut. His mildly inappropriate behavior often made me slightly uncomfortable, and Alfred completely refused to listen to my many requests of having him moved from my section. Finally, one day after arriving five minutes late and having tea spilled on me by one of the newer girls and being informed that I would be needed to work late that night, I was in no mood to deal with him.

"Don't even bother, sir. I'll just go put your order in," I spoke with a fake smile as I walked by him.

"Woah, now, wait a minute," he stopped me by grabbing my wrist. "I might have a change in there."

"Do you?" I questioned skeptically. Considering his order hadn't changed in monthes, so it seemed a bit unlikely that he'd come to a different decision.

After a quiet moment, he scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly, "Well, no. But I, uh. I'd like to chat with ya for a bit at least."

_Of course_he did.

"Officer, listen. I've had a less than stellar day and I'm real busy right now, my boss don't want me sitting on a break gabbing to a customer."

"Alright, another time," he conceded.

"Of course."

"Good, so we'll be going out tomorrow night then."

I smiled with a shake of the head. _Gotta give him points for persistence._"Afraid not, I got work from noon until closing tomorrow."

"Actually, you don't," he grinned widely now. "I already asked Al about it when I came in, and he agreed to call someone else in for you."

"Oh really? Al was alright with that?" I was skeptical once again. "For the last four years, this has been where I spend most of my day, and I'm somehow inclined to doubt your word on this."

"Well, he owes my pop a favor; apparently they were in the war together, and that ole man owes my family big time. So I'll pick you up at 7 from your place; but don't worry about directions, I got a scanner."

"Are you stalking me, officer?" I blurted, not even thinking.

"No, ma'am," he laughed out, despite the fact that I was deadly serious and pretty sure that sort of behavior could get someone thrown in jail. "I just think you're real beautiful; I been aiming to marry you since the first day I walked in that door, promised myself that someday you'd have my last name. You can't blame me or taking action into my own hands so I can make good on my promises."

"Mhm," was all I could respond with as he stared me down in earnest. It seemed like he was trying to stare a hole through to the wall in anticipation before I spoke without thinking again. Apparently, that was something I'd be doing a lot. "I s'pose if that's the case then I'd better at least give you one date to dream about. After all, it wouldn't be polite if I didn't."

_Goddamn it, old Southern parental lessons._

"Tomorrow at 7 then, wear whatever you'd like – no fancy or casual guidelines on this date. And for now, it'll just be my usual meal with whatever pie ya'll got today, please." Another shit-eating grin spread across his face at that.

"Figures. I'll go put that order in for ya, should be out in a few," I spoke quickly, wanting to escape what had been a very odd conversation.

"Oh, and I'm Deputy Shane Walsh, by the way," he called out as I walked toward the kitchen.

"Tilly," was all I shouted over my shoulder before crossing behind the counter and heading through the swinging doors.


	2. Eight Years Before, Part Two

**EIGHT YEARS BEFORE, PART TWO**

Tomorrow at 7 rolled around slowly, at most assigned times do in the heat of a Georgia summer.

I spent my first day off from the Indigo Rose as lazily as I could manage – I didn't wake up until 9:30 and then spent the day lazing around my small apartment with my cat, drinking tea while a few records played. A good hour was spent talking to my mother on the phone, assuring her that the man taking me out later that night wasn't a murderer and yes of course I'd introduce them if things got serious, which I figured they wouldn't. I only left the house to get the paper and mail from my box downstairs, greeting Mama Jane (the ancient Southern Belle who owned the building) along the way. I spent the afternoon on my balcony, observing the people walking down our street.

It wasn't until perusing my bookshelves for a new read that my door was being knocked on. I opened it in a flush, not yet realizing the reason for my day off stood outside. It was, of course, Shane.

Deputy Shane Walsh, as casual as he could be with his dark jeans and navy button-down and western boots. The man, the myth, the legend with a fistful of daisies. Deputy Shane Walsh outside of my teal-painted door as I stood opposite him, probably disheveled as a street mouse in a vintage kimono-style robe that smelled like the perfumed previous owner (who happened to be my grandmother.)

"Well, I guess I did say it didn't matter what you wore," he chuckled. "Although I reckon that might be a little under the dress code."

"I forgot."

"You _forgot_? Okay, that's fine; I'll just go on home then."

I sighed out in relief as he turned to walk away. But he only got a few feet down the hall when I lost all control over my curiosity.

"Wait! Shane, what does that mean? I – why're you leaving?"

"Look, Tilly. You're a damn good looking woman, prettiest girl I ever seen outside of a magazine or television show. And I like you a whole lot, but I'm not going to stay around if you're not happy with me here. Even if I want to stay around forever."

"Well, I'd like to go out with you. I was actually sort of looking forward to it. I only got caught up in having nothing to do all day; I really did forget.

Fifteen minutes later we were walking out of my apartment, both sufficiently dressed up for our no-dress code date. He drove his pick-up truck to dinner at some restaurant on the outskirts of town, and he tipped our waitress incredibly well but didn't make a big deal of it, and he held open every door we encountered. And it was nice, so much nicer than I had anticipated from the awkward conversation that led us there.

But after dinner, we both decided that we weren't ready to go home, so – in true King's County style, - we went to a bar. Well, we went to the only bar that wasn't an hour away.  
Shane was almost immediately talking to the bartender when we walked in. "Two shots of Beam, my man," he stated bluntly.

"Trying to get me drunk, officer?" I questioned, laughing. After spending two hours with him at dinner, I'd learned that he was only serious about one percent of the time; guess you could say that Shane was a lot more charming once you got to know him a bit.

"Maybe, but at least my –" he began to answer, before quickly cutting himself off and yelling to someone over my shoulder. "Rick! Lori! I didn't think you'd be out tonight!"

And suddenly he was hugging the man he'd been speaking to, while Lori Jacobs – a girl I recognized from high school – stood behind them opposite me. Shane hugged her, too, but less comfortably than he'd done with Rick.

"And who is this?" the man (whom I figured was Rick) grinned, pulling me into a hug, too. A little weird, but that was sometimes how people acted in our town. Lori smiled now, watching our interaction. I'd heard a few years back that they'd been married, had a kid, and and I figured from one look that it was true. And I was weirdly thankful that she didn't move to hug me.

"This is Tilly," Shane answered with a grin of his own. _Typical Georgia, so damn charming._

A look of realization crossed Rick's face upon hearing my name. "Ah, so this is the girl you've been talking about all damn year."

I smirked upon hearing this. "All year? Really, Shane?"

He blushed. He _actually blushed_, beat red, and shot Rick a look. "Well, y'know, I was pretty honest about that with you when I first asked ya out, wasn't I?"

We all just laughed at that. It was easy with these new people, with Shane's best friends, and I was beyond grateful for whatever God made it that way. Before I really registered it, I was drunk – not really drunk, but enough so that I was a bit more inhibited than normal, – and dancing with Shane in a darkened corner. And then I was _kissing_Shane in a darkened corner, not even thinking about what happened to Rick or Lori, although ultimately it was their own drunken cheering that brought me back to reality.

"I ain't got time for a boyfriend right now, you know," I whispered, breaking away from the kiss.

"Oh, I know," Shane smiled, pressing his lips firmly to mine again. "But I ain't going anywhere."

That was it. I was, by all accounts, a goner. Because after that first date, there was a second… and a third… and then a few anniversaries… and then an engagement… and then a wedding. Over the course of two years, and somehow despite our differences, we fell in love with one another. And we were so happy – _so goddamn happy_ – that it only made sense for bad luck to eventually find us.


	3. The Monthes Before

**THE MONTHES BEFORE**

I will never forget the day everything changed, the day Rick Grimes was shot and went down under the hottest Georgia sun anyone had seen yet that summer. Of course, the rest of the world wouldn't see the change for a few weeks, but that day is what truly defined it all for those of us who knew the man.

When my husband came home coated in his best friend's dried blood and collapsed into my arms in tears and sobbed on the floor near our staircase for an hour, it didn't seem like the end of everything. But of course, like an old movie plot, we never notice the worst moments until we're outside of them. And while it took a few monthes to realize, that day of blistering heat defined it all.

* * *

I was pregnant at the time, expecting a little girl that Shane predicted would be "the cutest goddamn thing on planet Earth" and that everyone else predicted would be the most over-protected child this side of the Mason-Dixon. Personally, I figured we were just lucky – it had taken us years, and a load of problems, to even get to enjoy the anticipation of having a baby.

Regardless, we still figured safety was most important, so I stayed home most days while Shane went off to serve the King's County Police force. I would spend most of the day doing a whole lot of boring nothing, sometimes eating lunch with Lori when she wasn't busy being a super mom at Carl's school. She and I had become pretty close over the course of a decade, despite our small differences; and she was so excited to be "an auntie" that it took away a lot of my stress over the pregnancy.

The day Rick nearly died was immediately separate from the norm because I heard Shane coming in the front door at around 2:00pm, hours earlier than he should have been. And it was even clearer when I walked downstairs from folding laundry to see him standing in the foyer, nearly covered in dried blood and just… staring at nothing.

"Baby?" I questioned softly from the bottom step, trying desperately not to scare him out from whatever the Hell state of mind he was in. "What happened?"

When his eyes flashed to meet mine, the answer was clear as crystal before it left his lips. "Rick. He… he got shot this afternoon."

So that was it. The end of weekend barbecues with the Grimes family, and of alumni football games where they were treated like superstars, and of dumb vacations to the coast, and of everything we'd known together for the last eight years.

And like a force greater than gravity, my husband – my strong, brave husband – and I grasped onto each other in the front hallway of our suddenly tiny house. And we sat there, tangled together and crying like we'd only done a few times before. Shane blamed himself, of course. He'd always felt like he needed to protect Rick, if only for the Carl's sake, and now he'd always feel like he'd failed us all. His best friend was bleeding in a hospital, and there was no way to undo what had happened. But after one of the longest discussions we'd ever have, I convinced him that we needed to keep calm about this, that he especially needed to now stay strong for everyone, that Rick would be okay in the end. It was just a matter of removing a few pieces of bullet and healing, and then it would be okay again.

Despite barely believing it, we both convinced ourselves – convinced _each other_ – that everything would get better. We'd just need to wait until morning. So we ate a small dinner, and then went to bed early. Just wait until morning.

* * *

Looking back, it probably should've been clear that we were actually stupid to believe it would pan out in our favor. Stupid to have told anyone about it when we'd only just found out. Stupid to have faith in anything when the world was so breakable.

But it didn't seem stupid. It all still seemed like it might be okay, even when the doctors said Rick was indefinitely comatose despite the simple procedure they'd (successfully) performed. No one was _really_ sure why he wasn't waking up, but they all assured us that his body just needed time to recover and heal itself.

Lori was, of course, almost irreparably upset by the entire thing; so Shane and I ended up taking care of Carl on more weekends than we ever had. Even that was alright, though. Babysitting him had always felt more like hanging out with a close, very youthful friend, and we felt it was good practice for our own future family.

The first clue to any true underlying problem didn't even show up until around a month before Hell took over. There were some bizarre reports on the news about a virus spreading around, something that they weren't sure of a fix for but could identify quickly when someone checked into the hospital. It brought on a dangerously high fever and often head pain; in a few cases, patients suffered from somewhat erratic behavior. Everyone assured the public that there would be a solution soon enough, but it did scare Shane into setting up a way for us to avoid what he called "hot zones," just in case something more came out of it.

And the illness spread fairly quickly over the course of a few days, yet the government just kept reassuring us. Within a week, they set the CDC on the search for a cure; and reports flooded in of disease research laboratories around the world looking for a vaccine. The whole world-wide epidemic thing was what really started scaring people, considering cases of the illness had popped up in places like Paris and Rome, places not typically known for being highly susceptible to "no big deal" viruses. The people of King's County remained steadfast, though. Nothing could scare Alfred from keeping the Indigo Rose open, nothing could scare old May from keeping the drugstore open, and nothing could scare the teachers from keeping the kids educated. This community had been more or less forgotten about by the outside world, so no one worried much about some so-called pandemic coming to town.

Instead of worrying, everyone just went right on living. Lori was understandably a bit concerned about Carl, but not enough to pull him out of his extra summer classes; Shane and I were just focused on trying to get through the next nine monthes without a major crisis. So we all visited Rick often, with Shane showing up at the hospital every day when his shift ended at the police station; we all cried a lot; and we all worried a lot. All the doctors – both mine and Rick's – said everything was going fine.

But like I said, we were stupid.

* * *

A/N:_ Oh gee_, I wonder where this storyline is headed. I'd put money on tragedies and zombies, what about ya'll? Here is what I can promise: this is not going to be stereotypical nonsense forever, just maybe half another chapter; these chapters are going to get longer once we get into where the established storyline picks up; and I'm going to try really _stupidly_ hard to keep this all decently canon, but obviously I've added a wife for a man who obviously didn't have one in the previous plot. I just promise you will (probably, hopefully) like where this goes. I've had this story in my heart and soul since two years ago, so it's about time for it to get the Hell out. **A gigantic thank you to my reviewers; you are so much sweeter than I could possibly deserve.**


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